


A Pain In The Neck

by MissMoochy



Series: MissMoochy's Spideypool Bingo Oneshots [10]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man/Deadpool - Joe Kelly (Comics)
Genre: Aged-Up Peter Parker, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Original Character Death(s), POV Wade Wilson, Peter Parker Without Powers, Short, Spideypool Bingo 2020, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26709061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMoochy/pseuds/MissMoochy
Summary: Spideypool Bingo prompt: [Goth Meets Vampire]The life of a vampire is a lonely one. And that's the way Wade likes it. But when he gets an annoying new fan(g), it's kind of hard to tell the kid to buzz off.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Wade Wilson
Series: MissMoochy's Spideypool Bingo Oneshots [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813951
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	A Pain In The Neck

**Author's Note:**

> The fic starts in the perspective of a rapist. No rape occurs although violence (and misogynistic language) is briefly mentioned, but if you want to skip any reference to it, start reading at: "He hoped she wouldn’t encounter one of Wade’s kind..."

_She’s been throwing anxious looks over her shoulder for the last couple of blocks. Stupid of her. She shouldn’t show she’s nervous. Not that it would help her, anyway. He’s let women go in the past. One woman on a Saturday night in late October, clumping along in combat boots. A goth chick. Her hair was buzzed short and he could see she was wearing a dog collar choker. He liked that. Wanted to tug on it. But she was carrying an umbrella, a big, heavy one with thick, spiked spires. Wielding it like she knew how. She could have done damage with that thing if he’d got close to her. So, he stopped and watched her walk away. Another time, it was a few days after Christmas in 2017, he’d seen a woman hurrying through the subway. Her heels clicked on the stairs and her wavy, brown hair was escaping its coiffeur. He’d wanted her, known he had to have her, but she’d stopped and sighed, digging through her bag. That broken, tired sigh had stirred something in him, and he’d hurried on, trying to forget her. He’d found a different woman later that night and it had been fine._

_But this girl. She was a bitch. He knew it the second he saw her. A slut. What self-respecting woman walks around at 3:00 AM on a Friday night, wearing thigh-high boots and a mini skirt. She’d probably welcome his touch. He’d stalk her, grab at her swinging auburn ponytail, clamp his hand over her mouth and pull her body towards him. She’d claw and scratch, attempt a muffled scream but eventually, she’d stop squirming and she’d let him. They always stopped fighting in the end._

_He crept forward, keeping her in his sights. They were walking down the same street, he was twenty feet behind her, maybe. She was headed towards an alleyway, one that he knew led to an apartment block. Perhaps she rented one of the apartments. He’d passed them before, they seemed nice. He was close, so close. He would get closer, until he could smell her perfume in the air, hear the swishing of that ponytail, he was getting closer, so close, he could touch her—_

_Something snagged at his sleeve and he stumbled, falling back._

_Her face, pale and yellow from the light of the streetlamps, twisted in concern and she saw him, looked right at him and over his shoulder and her mouth opened wide, she screamed and—_

_—she turned and ran, her boots thumping on the pavement._

_He struggled against his jacket, and turned, expecting to see his sleeve caught on an exposed nail jutting out of the brick wall._

_There was a face._

_A ghoulish red face with black lesions where the eyes should be. A face that was getting closer._

_And a hand, a black glove. Holding onto his sleeve._

_He tried to wrench his sleeve from the grip but the face was drawing closer and as it filled his vision, he realised the hold on his sleeve had gravitated to his wrist, was locking onto the flesh and bone._

_And he knew he was going to die._

* * *

Wade dropped the body to the ground and spat out a chunk of flesh. It splattered down by the body’s head. Gross. He wished he could have a mint to get the taste out of his mouth, but no matter. Of course, a rapist’s blood would taste sour. At least the girl had run away.

He hoped she wouldn’t encounter one of Wade’s kind on her way to...wherever she was going. Not all vampires were as forgiving as Wade. He sighed, and stepped over the corpse, preparing to leave the alley. Whoops, almost forgot to straighten his mask. He lowered the mask down over his mouth, feeling his fangs retreat, now that they’d taken their fill. He still had a few hours until the sun would rise and he’d need to go to ground. What to do until then? ****

He planned to see if he could catch a late-night movie. He walked, hands in his pockets, keeping a steady saunter but stopped as he heard footsteps.

He was being followed. ****

Wade sighed. After enough people try to behead you and stick bulbs of garlic down your throat, you get a sixth sense for this kind of thing. ****

“I know you’re there, so you might as well show yourself! I’d say I don’t bite, but we both know I’d be lying!” ****

There was a faint slap of sneakers on concrete and then his stalker stepped into the light of the lamppost.

* * *

Wade swallowed, pushing air into his dusty, deflated lungs.

Shit, this kid was pretty. Soft brown curls and eyes like dinner plates. Drab black clothing that looked too big for his small frame. Wade studiously avoided letting his gaze sweep down to check out his neck. _Don’t bite the kid. Don’t even think of biting the kid. Don’t reach for him and tilt his head back, exposing that perfect throat, let your breath spill out in cold clouds on the hot, silky flesh and—_

“I saw you,” the boy said. “I know what you are.”

That cut through his machinations like a katana to the head. Wade pulled himself up to his full height, six-foot-two of scarred flesh and angry teeth. He hadn’t gazed at his own reflection in several decades, but he knew he was horrifying to look at. But the boy didn’t flinch.

His eyes were lined with kohl but the pupils were pretty enough. A deep, chocolate brown, shining with that self-righteous confidence that only possessed the young.

“I don’t really feel like having a chat. You saw me, good for you. You’re not the first.”

“You’re fast. And strong—”

Wade rolled his eyes heavenward. “Oh, please don’t do the Twilight thing. Just say it. I’m a motherfucking vampire!”

The boy nodded excitedly. “I knew your kind existed. I went on forums—”

“Ugh, you’re a nerd. A goth nerd.”

“I love vampires. I—I think they’re beautiful. I never dreamed I’d actually meet one of you.”

“Yeah. Well, be glad you met me because if you’d met any other vamp, you’d be lying there on the street with your pretty neck ripped open.”

“Do you want to bite me?” the boy said, and his eyes widened even more— if that was possible. “I’d let you. If you want to.”

“Look, kid—”

“Peter. Peter Parker.”

Wade gave him a considering look. “Really? Ugh, sucks to be you. Peter. You don’t wanna get bitten. Trust me. It sucks, like, literally sucks. And it hurts. I’ve met humans like you in the past, humans who beg me to bite them. I don’t understand you morons.”

“But if you bite me, I’ll be like you. I could be a vampire.” Peter said, shyly ducking his head. He glanced up at Wade through his lashes and damn it, that kid knew how to work a stare.

Wade pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “I hate that you’re so irresponsible that you’re forcing _me_ to be the responsible grown-up here. It’s not a good look on me. Okay, firstly, that’s not how it works. You don’t just get bitten and you’re instantly a vampire, ugh, you’re so dumb. And being a vampire…it just blows, man. It’s the pits. I can’t go out in the sun, I can’t eat human food without puking…hell, I miss burritos. And I can’t check out my reflection, although maybe that’s a blessing. And I can’t even kill myself when it all gets too much for me. I heal from stab wounds, gunshots. It’s the _worst._ ”

“But it’s amazing,” Peter protested. “Being immortal, a lonely demon doomed to wander the earth. You have immortality, you could dedicate centuries to learning languages or mastering every musical instrument ever created!”

Wade rolled his eyes. “You’ve got it bad. I mainly sit in my apartment watching _Golden Girls._ So, what’s your poison? Ann Rice? Poppy Z. Brite? Ugh…Stephenie Meyer? I know you gothic, literature dorks, you love your vampire novels.”

“I—I just go on the forums, I don’t read much fiction,” Peter stammered. “So, you’re not going to bite me?”

“No freaking way. Go home, man.”

There was that peeking-beneath-the-lashes glance again. Wade wasn’t sure if he wanted to hit him or kiss him. Maybe both. “But…what if I meet another vampire on the way home?”

“Huh?”

“I could get hurt,” Peter said, a coy smile playing on his lips. “He—or she—might bite me. And it’ll be your fault.”

“What the fuck do you want from me, kid?”

“Walk me home?”

Wade hissed out a sigh. “Fine. Whatever. But that’s all I’m doing.”

They set off on the lonely walk home, Peter clinging to Wade’s arm the whole way. Wade grumbled, but the heat of Peter’s body felt kind of nice, warming his cold, dead flesh.

Too soon, Peter tensed, drawing to a halt beside an apartment building. Wade was familiar enough with the area. A lot of crime which meant a lot of potential sources of food. Muggers, rapists, all that good stuff. Not really the best place for a guy like Peter to live, but whatever. Wade wasn’t a safe option either. He stopped, too.

“So…is this home sweet home?”

“Afraid so.” Peter’s lips quirked in a tiny smile. If he wasn’t wearing so much eyeliner, he’d be quite cute. And maybe some more colourful clothing would look nice. Might bring out the highlights in his hair. Shit, it had been about sixty years since Wade had been human, he had no idea for the passing fashion. But he was pretty sure that the gothic movement had mostly died out, in the way that most subcultures did. Everything has its own expiry date.

“Okay. Um, I should probably—” Wade made some vague gesture and Peter nodded, looking a little chagrined.

“Yeah. Listen, I’m sorry for getting all weird about the, you know, the vampire thing. It’s just a huge thing for me to have your existence confirmed. I always believed you guys existed but I wasn’t sure. I have so many questions, but…I mean, you’ve probably got places to be.”

Wade should have taken the exit Peter was offering. Places to be, necks to bite. He could have nodded and bid him goodbye and shuffled into the gloom, fleeing the oncoming dawn. But he liked this kid. “I could stay for an hour, you got any questions about vampire stuff, I could answer them. If you don’t think it would be too weird?”

“No, that would be great, actually,” Peter said. His smile was genuine, white and perfect, splitting his face. Wade couldn’t help but feel a little bit charmed.

“Lead the way.”


End file.
